The Snow White Murder Case (白ゆき姫殺人事件, Yoshihiro Nakamura, 2014)

Review of The Snow White Murder Case (白ゆき姫殺人事件, Shiro Yuki Hime Satsujin Jiken) published on UK-anime.net


The sensationalisation of crime has been mainstay of the tabloid press ever since its inception and a much loved subject for gossips and curtain twitchers since time immemorial. When social media arrived, it brought with it hundreds more avenues for every interested reader to have their say and make their own hideously uniformed opinions public contributing to this ever growing sandstorm of misinformation. Occasionally, or perhaps more often than we’d like to admit, these unfounded rumours have the power to ruin lives or push the accused person to a place of unbearable despair. So when the shy and put upon office worker Miki Shirono (Mao Inoue) becomes the prime suspect in the brutal murder of a colleague thanks some fairly convincing circumstantial evidence and the work of one would-be microblogging detective, the resulting trial by Twitter has a profound effect on her already shaky sense of self worth.

The body of Miki Noriko (Nanao) has been found in a wood burned to a crisp after being viciously stabbed multiple times. Beautiful, intelligent and well connected, Noriko seems to have been well loved by her colleagues who are falling over themselves to praise her kind and generous nature, proclaiming disbelief that anyone would do such a thing to so good a person. One of these co-workers, Risako (Misako Renbutsu), happens to have gone to school with TV researcher, Akahoshi (Go Ayano) who’s a total twitter addict and can’t keep anything to himself, and decides to give him the lowdown on the goings on in her office. Apparently the offices of the popular beauty product Snow White Soap was a hotbed of office pilfering filled with interpersonal intrigue of boy friend stealing and complicated romantic entanglements. Working alongside Noriko and Risako was another ‘Miki’, Shirono (Mao Inoe), who tends to be overshadowed by the beautiful and confident Noriko who shares her surname. Shy and isolated, Shirono seems the archetypal office loner and the picture Risako paints of her suggests she’s the sort of repressed, bitter woman who would engage in a bit of revenge theft and possibly even unhinged enough to go on a stabbing spree. Of course, once you start to put something like that on the internet, every last little thing you’ve ever done becomes evidence against you and Shirono finds herself the subject of an internet wide manhunt.

In some ways, the actual truth of who killed Noriko and why is almost irrelevant. In truth, the solution to the mystery itself is a little obvious and many people will probably have encountered similar situations albeit with a less fatal outcome. Safe to say Noriko isn’t quite as white as she’s painted and the film is trying to wrong foot you from the start by providing a series of necessarily unreliable witnesses but in many ways that is the point. There are as many versions of ‘the truth’ as there are people and once an accusation has been made people start to temper their recollections to fit with the new narrative they’ve been given. People who once went to school with Shirono instantly start to recall how she was a little bit creepy and even using evidence of a childhood fire to imply she was some kind of witch obsessed with occult rituals to get revenge on school bullies. Only one university friend stands up for Shirono but, crucially, she is the first one to publicly name her and goes on to give a lot of embarrassing and unnecessary personal details which although they help her case are probably not very relevant. Even this act of seeming loyalty is exposed as a bid for Twitter fame as someone on the periphery of events tries to catapult themselves into the centre by saying “I knew her – I have the real story”.

Of course, things like this have always happened long before the internet and social media took their primary place in modern life. There have always been those things that ‘everybody knows’ that quickly become ‘evidence’ as soon as someone is accused of something. Some people (usually bad people) can cope with these accusations fairly well and carry on with their lives regardless. Other people, like Shirono, are brought down in many ways by their own goodness. What Risako paints as creepy isolation is really mostly crippling shyness. Shirono is one of those innately good people who often puts herself last and tries to look after others – like bringing a handmade bento everyday for a nutritionally troubled colleague or coming up with a way for a childhood friend to feel better about herself. These sorts of people are inherently more vulnerable to these kinds of attacks because they already have an underlying sense of inferiority. As so often happens, this whole thing started because Shirono tried to do something she already thought was wrong and of course it turned into a catastrophe which resulted in her being accused of a terrible crime. The person who manipulated her into this situation likely knew she would react this way and that’s why meek people like Shirono are the ultimate fall guy material.

Like Yoshihiro Nakamura’s previous films (Fish Story, The Foreign Duck, The Native Duck and God in a Coin Locker – both available from Third Window Films), The Snow White Murder Case is full of intersecting plot lines and quirky characters and manages to imbue a certain sense of cosmic irony and black humour into what could be quite a bleak situation. The Twitter antics are neatly displayed through some innovative on screen graphics and the twin themes of ‘the internet reveals the truth’ and ‘the internet accuses falsely’ are never far from the viewer’s mind. It’s testimony to the strength of the characterisation (and of the performances) that Shirono can still say despite everything she’s been through ‘good things will happen’ in attempt to cheer up someone who unbeknownst to her is the author of all her troubles, and have the audience believe it too. A skilful crime thriller in which the crime is the least important thing, The Snow White Murder Case might quite not have the emotional pull of some of the director’s other work but it’s certainly a timely examination of the power of rumour in the internet age.


Original trailer (English subtitles)

Les Misérables

les-mis

Tom Hooper’s starry adaptation of the long running Boublil & Shönberg musical (itself of course adapted from Victor Hugo’s novel) arrives, with curious serendipity, just in time for awards season. Although the RSC’s original stage production was not universally well received, even if its notices were not necessarily as damning as common perception would have it, Les Misérables went on to become one of the most popular musical productions of all time and at the point of writing still regularly sells out in London’s West End more than twenty-five years later. During that time it has gathered a rather fanatical fan base and become a phenomenon in its own right. As might be expected then, interest in a big screen outing has been high for much of the show’s lifetime but for one reason or another plans have never quite come together – until now. Riding on the coattails of the success of the (vastly overpraised) The King’s Speech, Les Misérables: the movie is now a reality.

The big selling point of this adaptation seems to be the decision to allow the actors to sing live, rather than lip-synch to a pre-recorded vocal track as was usual in the classic Hollywood musicals, and it is, frankly, the correct one. Singing live allows the actors to fully inhabit their roles and give a truer, more rounded performance than they would otherwise be able to do. However, it does have its downsides as in the vocals are necessarily rougher, obviously not as polished as they might be sung in a booth free from the real world set constraints and helped along in post by talented sound technicians. Whether one prefers a stronger acting performance or a totally flawless vocal one (leaving aside the ideal of having them both) is perhaps a personal preference and very much open to debate but singing live certainly eliminates the old stuffiness and forced emotion that often characterised the classic musical. Now that the technology exists to make this much easier to accomplish, the practice of live singing could be what finally wakes the movie musical from its long slumber.

Unfortunately, not many of Hooper’s other decisions are as helpful and where Les Misérables falls down it is by his own hand. Largely the directorial problems that plague the film are similar to those of The King’s Speech but here are vastly magnified by the epic nature of the material which, it seems clear, is simply too unwieldy for this style to handle. Broadly speaking, despite its large scale, Les Misérables is guilty of the sin most British cinema is accused of (often unjustly, but not in this case) – it is effectively a big TV movie rather than something which looks authentically cinematic. Much of the film is shot in extreme close up and even with the actors singing directly into the camera like an awkward soliloquy in a televised Shakespearean production. You might think that giving us such supreme access to the actor’s face, something which can never happen in a theatre of course, would allow us ever deeper into the actor’s performance but what it really ends up doing is forcing us into contemplating their performance rather than the drama. That Hooper uses this same technique so often lends the film an odd sort of formulaic monotony which actively works against the audience’s ability to engage.

Further to that the film as a whole is totally monotone, everything only comes in one variety of ‘loud’. Trevor Nunn, the musical’s original stage director is often criticised for his tendency to produce needlessly long productions Hooper’s film version by contrast moves at an extremely fast pace. However, where the stage version has its various moments of introspection or levity everything in Hooper’s construction is quite literally in your face. There’s very little difference in tone between Valjean’s soliloquy and the bombast of One Day More or Do You Hear The People Sing. The comedy numbers, Master of the House & Beggars at the Feast, even in a much compressed format fall completely flat and only serve to hold up the action – the added santa jokes also aren’t in any way humorous and are, if anything, cringeworthy.  Similarly, cutting Dog Eat Dog and relegating the Thérnadiers to comic relief only eliminates the darkness of their characters and paints them as slightly ridiculous Dickensian like rogues rather than the ruthless, selfish, cruel characters they actually are (though it is to be acknowledged that their primary role in the stage musical is that of comic relief).

Hooper also employs several seemingly random canted angles and odd compositions which do nothing except distract. This is further exacerbated by some extremely misguided editing decisions such as in the ensemble number One Day More in which the fast cutting between extreme close-ups makes it near impossible to follow the action or engage with the emotion of the song. Everything just seems to move from one thing to the next with very little connecting it and in the end it feels like a series of music videos connected only by a vague theme.

The saving grace is the high quality of the performances the actors contribute to the film. Anne Hathaway’s Fantine is rightly gaining high praise everywhere for her extraordinary rendition of I Dreamed a Dream with all the pain and bitterness of a woman seduced, betrayed and degraded by life. Eddie Redmayne however, who seems to be getting far less attention, is something of a revelation in the often thankless role of Marius with his impassioned innocence and sweetly powerful singing voice. Jackman in fact turns out to be something of a disappointment, especially when it comes to Valjean’s stand out song Bring Him Home which doesn’t suit him vocally and never quite ignites (in part due to Hooper’s direction). Russel Crowe’s performance as the righteous Javert is an odd one, even if not as bad as some reviews have made out – his singing is not exactly bad but perhaps incongruous with those around him. He also fails to integrate his performance sufficiently and there’s a curious disconnect in his performance when singing. Both Jackman and Crowe come more alive during the confrontation scene, however, the effect of this is somewhat lost through unfortunate sound mixing. Aaron Tveit also gives a very strong performance as the doomed leader Enjolras but it’s a shame that he seems to be so low on the sound mix that we often cannot hear him. As a bonus for those followers of the London theatre scene there are also many cameos from the cream of the West End ranging from background support to featured lesser roles and it maybe that this film has the highest Olivier award count ever seen on the big screen.

It is perhaps a fault in the musical, though the stage has more mitigating factors, but given there have been so many films with a revolutionary bent recently it’s odd that the uprising itself should come across as merely plot point and there’s very little time given over to the plight of the poor other than a few throw away lines about having had a failed revolution already and wound up with another king on the throne and everything worse than before. The student uprising lacks any sort of wider context and one might be forgiven for thinking that it really is ‘a game for rich young boys to play’ and that the people do not join them is not altogether unexpected. In short, despite the commitment of the actors, it lacks passion and comes across as a soulless exercise that fails to rouse the audience let alone the people of post-revolutionary Paris.

Where Les Misérables succeeds it does so because it is ‘Les Mis’ rather than any particular aspect of the filming and in fact often succeeds in spite of itself. It is certainly not the disaster that it might have been and the sung live approach helps ground it in a reality where it may have become even more overblown with non-sync singing but Tom Hooper’s Les Misérables fails on a cinematic level. It doesn’t manage to provoke the instant standing ovation that the closing music is engineered to – where the theatre audience is thrown to its feet the cinema one is wondering where it parked the car. As a film it’s pleasant enough for the most part but will leave you hungry for something more fulfilling later on.

The Foreign Duck, The Native Duck and God in a Coin Locker (アヒルと鴨のコインロッカー, Yoshihiro Nakamura, 2007)

YgoLt - ImgurReview of The Foreign Duck, The Native Duck and God in a Coin Locker over at uk-anime.net I really enjoyed this one – great movie!


Director Yoshihiro Nakamura once again returns with another adaptation of a Kotaro Isaka novel, The Foreign Duck, The Native Duck and God in a Coin Locker (アヒルと鴨のコインロッカー, Ahiru to Kamo no Coin Locker). Having previously adapted Fish Story (also available from Third Window in the UK and itself a very fine film) and Golden Slumber, Nakamura and Isaka seem to have formed a very effective working relationship and this latest effort is another very welcome instalment from the duo. Elliptical, melancholic and thought provoking The Foreign Duck, The Native Duck and God in a Coin Locker is a minor gem and every bit as whimsical as its name would suggest.

Shiina (Gaku Hamada) has just left the small town shoe shop his parents own to study law in Sendai. Moving into his new apartment he attracts the attention of his neighbour, Kawasaki (Eita), who overhears him signing Bob Dylan’s Blowing in the Wind. Kawasaki is himself a great admirer of Dylan remarking that his is ‘the voice of God’. Aloof, cold, at once dominating and indifferent the prospect of developing a friendship with the mild mannered, short and shy Shiina seems an odd one but nevertheless the two seem to develop a bond. Kawasaki therefore proposes Shiina help him with a rather peculiar problem.

Shiina’s other neighbour, who rudely rebuffed Shina’s introduction and moving in present, is apparently a foreigner – Bhutanese to be precise – and although speaks fluent Japanese cannot read. He’s particularly perplexed by the different between ‘ahiru’ – the native duck, and ‘kamo’ – the foreign duck, and is sure that if he had a good dictionary he’d be able to understand the two fully and thus perfect his Japanese. To this end Kawasaki has decided to steal a Kanji Garden Dictionary for him and wants Shiina to help. Understandably confused Shiina originally declines but is soon bamboozled into helping anyway. There’s a lot more to all of this than a simple semantic quandary though and the only thing that’s clear is that Shiina has gone and gotten himself embroiled in someone else’s story.

‘That sounds like something you just made up’ is one of the first things Shiina says to Kawasaki and indeed everything about him seems studied or affected in someway as if he were reciting someone else’s lines – essentially performing the role of himself. Half of the crazy stuff he comes up with, like his warning Shiina to avoid a particular pet shop owner completely out of the blue, sounds as if he’s just invented it on the spot for a laugh were it not for his distant and humourless manner. Without spoiling the plot too much, you start to get the feeling that there’s really something slightly off about everything you’re being told, that crazy as it seems it is the truth in one sense but perhaps not in another. This is where the mystery element of the film begins to kick in – who is Kawasaki really? What is he on about? Is any of this really happening?

Wistful in tone, The Foreign Duck, The Native Duck and God in a Coin Locker is only partly a mystery, it’s also a bittersweet coming of age tale and an, admittedly light, examination of the Japanese attitude to foreignness. Away from home for the first time Shiina is obviously keen to strike out on his own and be his own his own person but at the same time wants to fit in and be liked by his classmates. A particularly telling incident occurs when a confused Indian woman tries to get some information at a bus stop only to be ignored by those waiting. Shiina seems to feel as if he ought to help her but having just heard two of his classmates complaining about ‘stupid foreigners’ does nothing. Feeling guilty he tries to reach out to his Bhutanese neighbour but is again rebuffed. Kawasaki wants to know the difference between the foreign duck and the native one – is there such a fundamental difference? As one character says ‘you wouldn’t have talked to me if you’d known I was a foreigner’ ‘Of course I would’ Shiina replies ‘no, you wouldn’t have’ his friend responds with resignation. Isn’t it better to just help those who need it, whoever or whatever they happen to be?

The Foreign Duck, The Native Duck and God in a Coin Locker maybe a little darker than its title suggests but its tone is definitely to the wistful/whimsical side – this juxtaposition might irritate some who’d rather a more straightforward mystery or a lighter, more conventional comedy but its refusal to conform is precisely what makes it so charming. That it also manages to pack in a decent amount of social commentary in an interesting way is to its credit as is its ability to make the totally bizarre seem perfectly natural. The Foreign Duck, the Native Duck and God in a Coin locker is another impressive feature from the creators of Fish Story and fans of that earlier film will certainly not be disappointed by their latest work.


Original trailer (English subtitles)

Life of Pi 3D

LOP-068    Pi Patel takes in the bioluminescent wonders of the sea.

Ever since Yann Martel’s Life of Pi won the Booker prize in 2003 there has been intense interest in translating it to the screen. Considered by many to be unfilmable, it seeks to tell the story of one boy’s journey from an idyllic childhood as the son of a zoo keeper in French India to his present life in Montreal by way of a terrible, life altering ordeal – becoming the victim and only survivor of a shipwreck. Only human survivor that is, the boy, Pi, is alone for his 227 day odyssey across the Pacific save for a Bengal tiger with the incongruous name of Richard Parker that managed to escape the wreck and climb aboard his life boat.

Rafe Spall’s Martel stand in, having  thrown out a recently completed novel, has come to hear Pi’s story after being told that it could ‘make him believe in God’. A bold claim indeed, it seems younger Pi was something of a spiritual enthusiast – collecting religions the way other boys collect heroes, and attempting to practice them all at the same time! It’s mostly down to this pan-spirtituality that Pi attributes his miraculous survival, that and of course the tiger. Having to fend off Richard Parker and find ways the two of them could co-exist together kept his mind focused and prevented him on dwelling on his greater fears or the earthly loneliness that comes from being the only one of your kind for hundreds of miles.

That said, for all the film’s constant talk about gods and the universe some of its philosophising can’t help but feel a little trite. As for the tale’s claim that it will make you ‘believe in God’, it’s difficult to see how this could be the case. Yes, the boy’s survival is, literally, incredible – miraculous even, as is the way the universe functions as a whole but this story isn’t necessarily any deeper than any other meditations of a wandering soul about why the world is as it is, or indeed how one chooses to view it. Ultimately the film suffers from never being as quite profound as it would like to be and perhaps feels it is.

The real strength of this film is in its visuals which are extremely impressive. There’s no arguing that what Lee has created is revelatory, a series of beautiful, digital vistas more akin to a moving work of art than we are used to seeing from mainstream cinema. The use of 3D might well be the first that justifies its use as a valid artistic tool that is part and parcel of a film’s artistic vision rather than something that can be tacked onto a movie’s name in order to add a few pounds onto the ticket price.

This artistic vision is what makes Life of Pi such an interesting film. Though many will find its storytelling banal or unconvincing, its technical and artistic proficiency cannot be denied. The weaknesses of the central narrative and its slightly saccharine tone mean that Life of Pi may not stand up to repeated viewings, however resisting a first viewing on these grounds would be a mistake as it represents a true evolution in the art of filmmaking.

The Skin I Live In – Summer Screen at Somerset House

Wednesday night saw the opening of the Film4 Summer Screen at Somerset House which launched with the UK premiere of Pedro Almodóvar’s latest film The Skin I Live In (La piel que habito). This marks the first reunion of Almodóvar and Banderas since 1990’s Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down!. It’s also the first time Almodóvar has stepped into the horror genre, so expectations were running fairly high.

They were not disappointed.  This is quite simply a brilliant film, dark, disturbing, but also displaying that trademark Almodóvar humour. Unfortunately it’s almost impossible to review as it’s best to know absolutely nothing at all about the plot before going in. It’s a real return to form for Almodóvar after the slightly disappointing Broken Embraces, this is a film with plenty to say that’s also wickedly entertaining. Highly recommended, do not miss this!

Rebecca

Rebecca, Hitchcock’s 1940 adaptation of Daphne du Maurier’s Novel is a gothic tale of romance, jealousy, social insecurity and dark secrets. The plot probably needs no introduction, but for the uninitiated: a nervous young woman meets and marries a wealthy older man she meets in the south of France. Traveling home with him to his ancestral home, she finds it difficult to adjust to the upper class lifestyle. She finds herself haunted by the spectre of the first wife who drowned at sea only a year previously. In particular she is intimidated by the stern house keeper, Mrs Danvers, who was devoted to Rebecca, the first wife, and deeply resents any attempt to displace her presence in the house.

This is a supreme example of Hitchcock’s ability to create and maintain a tense and disturbing atmosphere. A feeling of malevolence hangs over the film from the very first dreamlike images and is only dispelled at the fiery end. A personal favourite!

 

 

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo – Official Greenband trailer

After all the excitement following the leak of a cam captured Red Band trailer over the weekend, an official Green band trailer has been released! Pretty much the same as the red band but without the more extreme elements the film looks fantastic, we can only hope the film lives up to this fantastic promo. As a card carrying member of the Lisbeth Salander fanclub (yes I’ve read all the books and seen the Swedish movies, and no I don’t view this as remake because it’s an entirely new script taken directly from the first book) I can’t wait to see this and I hope it’s as good I think it will be because I already want to see the next two!